


Find Your Way Home

by Silversprig



Category: Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22184482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silversprig/pseuds/Silversprig
Summary: Life moved in circles. Sakura spent her spring in war, her summer in love and her autumn in motherhood, missing the opportunity to reconnect with her civilian family. In the springtime of Sarada's youth, Sakura sends her daughter on a sabbatical to learn the way of the Haruno.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Hatake Kakashi, Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Potential Sakura Origins](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/549136) by https://archiveofourown.org/users/yunyu/pseuds/yunyu. 



The sky was blue, the trees were green, and Mirai was guarding the gates. Clouds drifted lazily across the tops of newly constructed buildings, and crows flew by, cawing “Ahoo, ahoo.” All was well. 

Sarada’s Sharingan spun lazily as she memorized the scene before her. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply to savor the scent of fresh dirt and the sticky sweet of spring. There was no other spring like that of Konoha. She was going to miss it. 

“Water?” 

“Check.” 

“Rations?” 

“Check.” 

Sakura patted down her daughter’s side, adjusting Sarada’s backpack straps. 

“Cellphone charger?” 

“Mom, I have it all.” Sarada caught herself before she rolled her eyes. 

This wasn’t the first time she was leaving the village. In fact, the only reason why Nanadaime-sama had let her take the sabbatical in the first place was because of her demonstrated aptitude in taking A-rank, B-rank and C-rank missions. Baka-Boruto had been so jealous when he heard of her opportunity. 

But she could sympathize with her mama. She looked into her mother’s green eyes, which were glassy with tears. 

“I’ll miss you.” 

“Hai, mama. I’ll miss you too. I’ll call lots.” 

Sakura stopped fussing with the straps and smiled softly. Her hand reached up to run gently down her daughter’s hair, now down to the middle of her back. “You never call me that anymore.” 

“I’m Chuunin now. I’ve been Chuunin for two years.” This time Sarada couldn’t stop the eye roll. 

“I understand. You’re older now, aren’t you? I’m so proud. When you come back, you will have surpassed me.” 

Sarada had taken her taijutsu and strength training in stride, and taken to her medical training like a natural. All biases aside, her daughter was the best student she had the honor of teaching, with chakra control like her own and sharpness lent from her father. 

And yet, Sakura couldn’t help but worry for her daughter. Sarada’s generation had seen war with the Gods to the scale of Kaguya and fought alongside their parents, but had never lived in a time where ninja were at war with themselves. The Alliance was solid. Despite extensive combat experience, Sakura feared Sarada still lacked wisdom. 

“Mama, don’t say that.” Sarada’s eyes grew wide. “I’m still not done with the Strength of a Hundred training, and we haven’t even gotten to Sage arts yet. There’s still so much to learn.” 

Sakura smiled gently at her daughter. Despite appearances, she still had the naivety of a child. She untucked a piece of black hair that was caught behind her mandarin collar. If only knowledge was the measure of strength.

“Remember your other training, too. What I told you.” She opened her daughter’s hand and pressed firmly into the heel of her thumb, and lightly traced a circle on her palm with her finger. 

Enso. The beginning and the end. Harmony. 

Sarada was humbled in a way she hadn’t felt in a while. All of Konoha knew of the tragic Uchiha demise; the legacy and Sharingan of her father’s side often overshadowed her mother’s civilian roots. Yet half her family was exactly that. Civilian. There was nothing wrong with coming from a civilian family. Her mama had, and she was extraordinary. But being treated like a Uchiha made it easy for her to forget she was also Haruno, which was more than Grandma Mebuki and Grandpa Kizashi. 

It also reminded her why she was making this trip in the first place, strengthening her resolve. Looking into the sky, she saw the sun was already high. She had to get going.

“Mama, where is the Sixth? Tell him bye for me, and thanks for the training last Friday. Remember to see him lots. He gets lonely.” 

“Hai, hai, Sarada.” When did she grow up? For this trip, she looked every part combat ready in her red dress, shorts and bandages. But unlike for other missions, today, Sarada went without the standard issue flack vest. After all, it wasn’t technically a mission. And instead of the Uchiwa fan, the Haruno crest sat on proudly on her back. 

She turned around and waved her hand. “I’m off!” 

Sakura stared at her retreating figure, until her daughter disappeared into the distance. It was the last time she would be seeing her daughter for three months. 

A figure flickered behind her. “She’s getting a promotion when she comes back, you know.” 

“I know she will. She’s too determined to not make jounin.” 

“No, I mean Naruto already approved her promotion. He just wants her to finish her training so her skill sets are rounded, which will happen on this trip. When she comes back, it’ll just be a matter of formality.” 

Sakura turned to face the Copy Ninja behind her, face full of shock. “What do you mean? She’s too young.” It was the first time she’s heard of this. 

Kakashi looked up lazily from behind his book. “Sakura-chan, by this age you were already fighting S-Class missing nin.” 

“We’re not in wartime anymore.” 

His book snapped shut. “Nonetheless, the village still needs Sarada at her best.” 

She let out a sigh, and then chuckled. “I can’t help but worry. But you’re right. When my daughter starts worrying about people like us, it seems silly to worry over something like this. She’s already thinking like an adult.” 

“Sarada can take care of herself. Now escort her poor Rokudaime back to the village.” 

“Oh, and why should I do that?” she asked playfully.

“Didn’t you hear? He gets lonely these days.”

◎ 

The two took their time walking back through the village. Now that she saw her daughter off, Sakura had a lot of time to kill. They strolled in silence, observing the village around them.

In truth, it really wasn’t much of a village anymore. Konoha’s population surged after the Third Shinobi war; after the war with the Otsutsuki and the subsequent population boom, the population was five times that of the past. Combined with the new high rise buildings, the population density of Konoha was much closer to that of a city. 

And yet, Konoha was Konoha. 

Not for the first time, Sakura was grateful for the diversity in the village. After each destabilization to the ninja world, more refugees appeared and settled in Konoha, bringing about a rich merchant culture that made itself most apparent in the market. Though many older establishments had chosen to legitimatize themselves by moving into buildings, Konoha still had plenty of street hawkers and vendors. 

The air was filled with the shouts of hagglers striking a bargain, children running through the streets, and the crinkles of bags and bills. Sakura enjoyed watching a panhandler demonstrate a new contraption to a captive audience and listening to the sound of peace. Beside her, Kakashi seemed to be enjoying the busy market, too. 

“Eggplant.” 

“Hmm?” 

“If you make eggplant for dinner, I’ll cook you saury.”

“Eh? I don’t think you’ve ever volunteered to cook before. And who said I’m free tonight?” 

He gave her the side eye. “If not tonight, then one of these nights.” Kakashi knew how much free time she had to kill now with Sarada gone. Who wouldn’t?

“Hai, hai. Let’s do tonight.” 

Another moment of companionable silence passed between them. Then, Kakashi stepped aside to bargain with a vegetable vendor, and came back with two eggplants. 

“You’re buying too? Is something wrong? Are you sick?” Sakura waved her hand in Kakashi’s face mirthfully. 

“Maa, don’t make me regret it. I just thought with Sarada gone and all, we should celebrate.” 

“Hmm, we, huh?” 

“Yes. The girl you raised and I helped train has gone on a sabbatical. She’s a jounin in all but name now. Let’s celebrate.” 

Sakura hemmed again, lightly. “You know, you helped raise her, too.” 

“You’re right, I did. More reason to celebrate.” 

After Sasuke left, Kakashi had helped train Sarada’s third tomoe. With most of Sasuke’s time in the village taken up with his duties with the Hokage and training Boruto, Sarada’s training had fallen heavily on Kakashi. In truth, it worked out better that way. Kakashi provided the Hokage experience that she hoped to gain someday, and she kept him sharp with their spars. Sakura was grateful to him for providing guidance for her daughter. 

Then, something occurred to her. 

“You’re making saury? Should we buy some now?” 

“No need. I always go fly-fishing for them.” 

“When’d you learn to do that?” 

“My Father taught me when I was young. After he passed, I learned to prepare the fish myself. I mastered all the nitsuke dishes. Simmered fish was cheap and fast to cook. Then I learned the meuniere ones.” 

“Wow. Sounds delicious. I’ll provide the sake.” 

“Actually, I’d much rather you tell me about the Haruno Kekkei Genkai. And why Sarada needs to leave the Five Nations to master it.”

◎ 


	2. Chapter 2

Sarada kicked up a cloud of dust as she ambled forward. The sun beat down on her back, making her shirt stick with perspiration. She reached in her pack and took out a piece of aloe to rub on her face and shoulders. Her fair skin was prone to burning, and she felt itchy all over. There were sand in places that would make Sumire blush. Sarada wouldn’t usually let these things bother her, but now that she was away from her village and all alone, she could sulk shamelessly. After all, it was the only luxury solitude afforded her. 

This really wasn’t what she expected her journey of a lifetime to be like. After crossing the border of Fire country and leaving the dense thickets of woods and all its creatures, she’d seen only sand. For the last three hours, there had been only waves of golden-yellow for as far and wide as she could see. There was nothing more boring than trekking across the desert alone. She considered counting cactuses, but thought better of it. Some habits were better left for her younger self, she decided. There had only been four anyway. 

As she meandered along, Sarada considered what would happen if she died, if not from heatstroke, then from idleness. Her mama would cry, and blame herself for not packing extra water bottles before she left. Her papa would have to come back from whichever corner of the earth he’d been self-assigned to, and stare solemnly at her grave. Poor Sarada, the villagers would murmur amongst themselves. She had been so young! Who knew our future Hokage would meet such a tragic demise? Then, everyone would feel sorry for her. 

Drawing away from her little fantasy, Sarada studied her map. She started her journey on the bottom right side, where the leaf symbol was printed cartoonishly in a bunch of trees. The star her mama had drawn for her was to the top of the far left, half an inch in the margins. Her destination so far it was off the map. Sarada had calculated it would take around three weeks. 

Not for the first time, she wondered why she had been blessed with the world’s most coveted kekkai genkai, and the world’s most lesser known… completely useless one. 

It seemed the world had to have balance. For every useful doujutsu doled out, surely someone had to get the short end of stick. And it was just her luck to get both. 

For, to her great consternation, starting from when the sun was directly overhead at an exact ninety degree angle, she had the unique ability to draw a perfect circle. This ability stayed with her until the sun set to exactly one hundred and twenty degrees, before she had to exert effort like normal people. 

Big ones, small ones, it didn’t matter. She could draw them all, with her eyes closed, hung upside down, even with her feet, as she had discovered one lazy Saturday in her room. It was totally weird and completely useless. 

Baka-Boruto could never find out. If he realized the reason she left the village to hone this particular skill, she’d never live it down. 

Sarada sighed as she forged ahead, eyes peeled for the rendezvous point. She hoped this trip would be worth it.

◎ 

“Don’t laugh.” 

“That’s it?” Kakashi couldn’t hide his amusement, even behind his mask. Tell-tale eye crinkles always gave him away. “She could do the same with her Sharingan, you know.” 

Sakura rolled her eyes. “My family has been in Konoha so long, we don’t remember what it’s for anymore. It’s good for her to rediscover her roots. I was supposed to make the journey when I was younger, but it’s impossible now.” 

She looked down and pushed around the last piece of eggplant on her plate. “My mother was the child of an immigrant. Grandmother wasn’t displaced or anything,” she clarified. “She just wanted to make her own fortune. She told me she wanted to travel as far as she could and see as much as she can her youth. She was pretty successful at that.

“Konoha took her in not because of her bloodline. She was really good with numbers. Grandmother made her money doing astrological calculations, before she married grandfather and settled here. That’s why there’s nothing in my file about this.”

“It’s not really useful as a Shinobi trait, is it?” Kakashi mused. He leaned back, having finished eating and feeling immensely pleased. Both adults polished off the two main dishes they prepared. His cooking was truly delicious, if he could say so himself. Still got it. 

“It’s not really useful as a civilian trait, either. Grandmother never bothered to tell Mom what it was for. Just that if she wanted something useful, she should make it useful herself.” 

“Harsh.” 

“Grandmother was practical like that. She always meant well.” Sakura took her last bite, clearing off her plate. Between the eggplant and saury, the pair had really outdone themselves. She piled up their plates, and brought them over to the sink. Kakashi followed her and leaned against her countertop as she washed up. 

The Uchiha household was impeccable as always. There were trinkets and books lined up neatly on matching wood furniture chosen under the girls’ careful eye. As Sakura chatted about her parents, Kakashi looked around and admired her home. Ever since his own parents died, he had enjoyed the independence and autonomy his bachelorhood provided. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but love feeling included. From the chipped china they had used tonight to the smiling faces on the picture frames, there were many signs of a warm, loving family. He felt a surge of pride at what his cute student had created for herself and with her childhood sweetheart, his other damaged little student. They had done well for themselves. 

Speaking of which… 

“Have you spoken to Naruto lately?” 

Sakura blinked at him. “No. Were you even listening?” 

“Ah, something about your parents’ marriage?” 

“Nevermind,” she sighed. The man was shameless. “What about Naruto?” 

“He wants a team dinner at Ichiraku on Friday. For old time’s sake.” 

“It’s been a while since our last one.” she mused. “But I’m visiting my Grandfather in the afternoon, so it will have to be a late dinner.” 

“That’s fine. Naruto gets off late anyway.” Kakashi straightened her kitchen chairs. “I’ll be going now. I have some tiny midgets to tend to before I go to bed.” 

She walked him to her door, hoping he’d leave before he got started on some long-winded excuse. Usually she enjoyed entertaining his lies but she was in no mood tonight. “Good night.” 

Sakura went back to her living room. Her house was a point of pride for her, and just as she’d sorted her plates by color, everything else was also organized with the efficiency and precision of a hospital director. 

Of course, her house didn’t clean itself. Tonight, Sakura decided, would be a night for organizing photos. 

Despite all appearances, she wasn’t usually a sentimental person. That was more of Hinata’s thing. But Sakura believed everything had a place. Just as her place was beside Sasuke, as she had known all those years ago, her daughter’s place was at the old village. The old home. 

It was somewhere that she hadn’t considered in years, ever since she had penciled into her planner to send her daughter there and never looked back. The Hokage, being an orphan and having once entertained fleeting thoughts about visiting Uzushiogakure himself, had understood how important it was for Sarada to go now. It was too easy to be bogged down by the responsibilities of adult life, and he understood why Sakura wanted to send her daughter out sooner than later. 

Nevertheless, ever since Sarada had left, Sakura felt a growing pang in her chest. She took a few albums down from her bookshelf and sat down, opening one with a retro floral print. Flipping through a few photos, she found the picture she had been looking for. It was of her late Grandmother, Mother, and little Sakura in her formal kimono, looking solemn. This was her only photo with these three generations of Haruno women. Sakura took the picture out of its slip and placed it in a frame. With her daughter gone on her longest trip yet, perhaps they could keep her company instead.

◎ 

The thing about Toddler Town, Kakashi decided, is that what was supposed to be a respectable establishment that acted as the Leaf village orphanage had actually been taken over by little heathens. They had no respect for authority and order, pissed wherever and whenever they pleased, and slept on the floor. Not for the first time, Kakashi considered changing the name of the orphanage to something more fitting, like Tiny Terrors.

Every time Kakashi visited, the place was utter chaos. This time, someone was pawing at another’s face, making him cry. Behind them, another chubby hand indulged in drawing on the walls. And yet, neither were his point of interest.

Tonight’s victim was Akio, a rather tall civilian who was losing a fight to a midget.

“No–Mitsue–give me that!” 

Mitsue had no intention giving that to Akio, and showed him so rather rudely by wiping a booger on his hand. This worked wonderfully, as Akio let go in his haste to wipe his hands, and Mitsue gained sole custody of what appeared to be a rather delicious looking lego block. 

Kakashi snatched the lego up before Mitsue could eat it with his hand that wiped his booger. “Uh-uh, let’s go wash, shall we?” 

Mitsue cooed and tried to grab at Kakashi’s hair. Kakashi carried him over to the sink and scrubbed his grubby hands while Akio tried to get garner some semblance of order for bedtime. 

By the eight o-clock mark, three of twenty seven tots were out of bed, and by eight thirty, only seven of them were squirming. Kakashi counted this as a definitive success. 

“Rokudaime-sama, thanks for coming tonight,” Akio said, still frazzled. 

“It’s really no trouble. I’m just here to help the children. How’s this week been?” 

After his retirement, Kakashi stayed involved in community affairs. Kakashi reveled in the freedom of a pensioner, but old habits died hard. Having been busy since childhood, having so much free time had felt unnatural. Helping out at the orphanage was a highlight. Kakashi truly enjoyed spending time with the little brats and wasn’t above taking pleasure in the endless entertainment t of watching their handlers manage the chumps. 

“Tight. Midori’s been out sick, so Ren and I have been running double shifts.” 

“Try not to let the children get the best of you.” 

“Hai, Hokage-sama.” 

Kakashi scratched the back of his head. “Maa, how many times do I have to tell you? Drop the formality. I’m here as a volunteer.” 

“Nonetheless, the village is indebted to you, Hokage-sama.” 

Kakashi said nothing. This was a conversation that repeated itself every two weeks, to the same effect. It always went nowhere. 

“How’re the kids doing?” 

“One of them is showing signs of awakening a kekkai genkai. His file shows that it’s non-lethal, so the staff isn’t too worried. Another two show high aptitude for ninjustu, despite being civilian born. They’re always quickest to crawl away. One got through the genjustu trap in front of the snacks.” The only thing worse than babysitting twenty-seven toddlers was babysitting shinobi toddlers, Akio learned. However, each day strengthened his resolve. There was no way he was letting a bunch of three-year-olds get the best of him. He still had some pride. 

Kakashi considered this for a moment. “Send the list over to Iruka to keep an eye on them. As for the one with kekkai genkai, let me know immediately if anything changes. Sometimes these files have misinformation, because there’s no way of confirming their lineage. I’ll be back later in the week to check.” 

“Also, there were no adoptions last quarter, sir.” 

Peacetime usually meant couples were more ready to adopt, and this season seemed unusually slow. “I’ll have someone look into that. Do we need to increase funding?” 

“We submitted the budget proposal for next season to Nidaime-sama. It’s already been approved.” 

It was his priority to give the kids a good childhood. He knew that the orphanage prepared them well for the academy curriculum, and that they were fat and happy, but having a family was a stabilizing force. Less orphans generally meant children who were better supported for life in the field. For the good of the village, Kakashi hoped to solve this issue.

◎ 

Despite having passed when Sakura was young, Grandmother Tsubaki left a strong impression on Sakura. With her mysterious aura and straightforward speech, Tsubaki never let Sakura forget that the Haruno were a matriarchal clan. Sakura had vivid memories of her grandmother plaiting her short hair and singing to her, “Men may make harvest and call it their own, women plant seeds and wait till they’re sown. When the day gets dark and their tummies growl, it’s women who put the rice in their bowl.” She usually left her grandparents’ with little braids in her bangs, sticky dango in her hands, and chanting said obnoxious rhyme, which drove Mebuki and Kizashi up the wall. 

Sakura thought of this as she made her way to her Grandfather’s. Although most clans in Konoha were carried by men, Grandfather had willingly given up his last name and married into the Haruno. Some other things they shared were pink hair and a sweet tooth. 

“Grandfather! It’s Sakura! I’m coming in!” she announced. She arrived at the gate of a modest house, and opened the door. He never used his lock. 

“Come in,” he called. He slid open the door to his back yard, where he had been raking leaves. 

Sakura set her bag on his table, and then boiled water for some tea. “Look, Grandfather, I brought oranges.” 

After murmuring a quiet thank you, Grandfather patiently sat and waited for Sakura, and served tea to them both. Sakura had already cut the oranges, so they sat in silence and watched the birds in the yard as they drank and ate.

When Sakura was younger, Tsubaki had affectionately told her that she inherited his demeanor. Unlike Tsubaki, who was hard but warm, Grandfather was easygoing and quiet, and often kept to himself. Sakura remembered long afternoons playing with her dolls as both grandparents sat in each other’s company in silence. Nonetheless, her grandparents had a loving marriage.

“Sarada left to the old village this week,” Sakura told Grandfather. He made a sound of acknowledgement. 

After a short silence, he asked, “Is your mother coming today?” 

“Hai. Mother said she’ll be arriving a little later.” He made another sound of approval. 

Sakura sucked on a pulpy slice as she pondered her mother’s arrival. After Tsubaki had passed, Mebuki and Sakura had taken her place and kept Grandfather company. 

Although a source of comfort to Tsubaki, Mebuki had never really seen eye-to-eye with Sakura. Sakura wasn’t sure if she was ready to speak with her mother about Sarada yet. Mebuki hadn’t embraced the Haruno heritage like she had. According to Tsubaki, growing up as the child of an immigrant, Mebuki had been viewed as an outsider by her peers in her youth. She’d rejected what was taught by her mother and adapted to the Konoha way of life, and subsequently had little interest in reconnecting with the greater family. 

Sakura didn’t know how to tell her mom that she’d sent her granddaughter so far away. 

She also had no time to dwell on this, as at that moment, the door opened. “Okaeri!” Mebuki called out. 

“Tadaima,” Grandfather returned. 

Sakura’s mother walked in and added her gift of apples to the table. As she peeled the apples, the three started chatting again. Thoughts still weighing heavy on her mind, Sakura decided to tell her mother the news. 

“Mom, Sarada went to the old home this week.” 

Mebuki stopped peeling the apples and stared at her daughter. “You don’t mean…” 

“I gave her a map and directions. The Hokage cleared it. She should be arriving by the end of the week.” 

There was a pause, before Mebuki let out a breath of air from her nose as she resumed her peeling. “Well, there’s nothing that can be done about that now. I hope she’s able to find her way and stay safe.” 

Sakura traced the wood grains of the floor, feeling like a child again. “Don’t worry, she has help.” 

“Sasuke escorting her then?” 

“He’s meeting her in Rain before they cross out of the Alliance. Anything beyond that requires an international passport.” Naruto had helped her get one approved. 

“Hn,” her grandfather grunted in approval. “About time he spent time that girl.” 

Sakura sighed as Mebuki burst out with a laugh. Her grandfather was a little old-fashioned and never really understood her marriage. How could a married man be gone from his home for so long voluntarily? He had to be up to no good.

“Father, you two are exactly alike,” Mebuki rebuked.

“Sakura should have married someone like her father,” Grandfather retorted gruffly. “There’s no question he’s loyal to his home.” 

There was no convincing this man. How could she explain her husband’s sacrifice to give her the family she had always wanted? Deciding against arguing the point today, Sakura changed the subject.

“I was worried you were going to be disappointed.” 

The three sat in a short contemplative silence, listening to the scritch-scratch of knife against apple. “I have nothing against the old family, Sakura. I just grew up in a different generation. The third war was happening and my peers were at the front line. Any outsider was viewed as hostile. It doesn’t mean I don’t respect the old ways. 

“You know, your Grandmother Tsubaki made the move here. In order to stay, it was my duty to the family to integrate, and Sakura-chan, you didn’t do too shabby yourself. Every generation has its duty to the next. It’s only fitting that Sarada goes home to close to loop, so we can strengthen our bond with the Haruno.” 

Her mother finished peeling, and set the apples on the table. They divided and ate the apple and orange slices, until there was only one. First it was offered to Grandfather, who then offered it back to Sakura. 

Usually, Sarada would get the slice, as she was the youngest, but with Sarada gone, Sakura got the last apple slice, her first final slice in fifteen years. It was a rare moment, but she felt like a child again. Sakura closed her eyes as she savored the sweet tang of the fruit and leaned against her mother, who wrapped an arm around her waist. For the first time since Sarada left, Sakura felt content.

◎ 

“I’ve been gone for too long,” was the first thing Sasuke said when he spotted his daughter at the rendezvous point. “Your hair’s different.” 

It had been five days since she crossed out of the desert, and having stayed in a particularly nice Rain country bathhouse the night before, Sarada knew her hair was especially sleek. “Hello to you too, Papa,” she retorted in high spirits. “I’m a ninja, but I’m also a woman now.” 

The corner of Sasuke’s mouth quirked up in amusement at his cute daughter. “I didn’t mean it like that. You look good.” 

“Thanks, Papa,” she replied. A consummate daddy’s girl, Sarada had always felt self-conscious in her initial meetings with her father. However, he never failed to be pleased with her, and for that she was proud. 

The two set off and as she filled the space in between with stories of her missions and friends, Sasuke hungrily reveled in the company of his daughter. His time with her was precious little, and this was the first time she was traveling with her Papa. 

Sasuke was a little excited to share this side of his life with her. Despite not being particularly glamorous, it was how he lived, and he wanted her to enjoy it as well. As they broke for camp that night, Sasuke made sure to the prepare the rabbit game with some particularly hot spices, as he knew that was what Sarada liked. He also served some side dishes he had especially packed to share with her. 

“Papa,” she asked as they sat around the campfire, “what do you know about the Twelve States?” She munched on a particularly juicy piece of game. 

“Not much,” Sasuke admitted as he peeled a roasted duck egg. “Just that the Twelve States is a literal translation from the dialects and a misnomer. Each State is a nation itself. They’ve been unified for a long time. There’s not a lot of communication between the Five Nations and the Twelve States because both have been dealing with internal conflict for a long time. Between the wars and the distance of the Deep Sea, communication had never been practical.” 

”That’s standard academy knowledge, Papa.” Sarada was unimpressed. 

“I only know a little more from the Uchiha lore,” Sasuke said. “They have different patron gods. In some areas, ninjutsu is not looked highly upon. There’s a reason we have not extended our Alliance into their territories. We are too different.” 

“What about now, Papa?” 

“It’s very far. I don’t know if the Five Nations are interested in opening that line of communication.” 

Sarada pondered this as she stared into the flickering flames. “Will you visit, Papa?” 

His eyes softened in the firelight, fingers lifting up to poke her in a familiar manner. “I’ll see if I can. There’s much to attend to in the Shinobi nations. I still have a lot to do.” 

“I know,” she said as she looked down. She chewed off the last of the rabbit and savored the tangy flavor as she threw her empty stick into the campfire. “I just miss home.” She thought of how many boys Chocho would meet, and how many new jutsu Boruto would learn. She thought of how many missions he and Mitsuki and Konohamaru and Sumire would go on without her, and sighed. 

“It’s different this time,” Sasuke agreed. He handed her the peeled egg. “You’ll get through it.” 

Sarada accepted the egg and rolled her eyes at her papa’s lame attempt at reassurance. She knew he meant well, he was just awkward as hell. She polished off the egg, then helped put out the fire and wash up. 

That night, she laid her bedroll next to her Papa’s. As she listened to the chirp of crickets around her, Sarada felt restless. She stared up at the bright milky way and thought of the legend of the cowherd and the weaver girl. The story was about a pair of lovers, a weaver and cowherd who could only meet once a year on Tanabata. They must have felt so lonely to be separated, she thought. Though she’d never taken a lover, Sarada felt homesick. She thought of her mama, and the ocean that would separate them soon ahead.

“Papa,” she prompted. 

“Hn,” he grunted, opening his good eye to look at his daughter. He had almost fallen asleep. “What now?”

“I love you.” 

He closed his eye and smiled. “Go to sleep. We have a long day ahead.”

◎ 


	3. Chapter 3

As Sasuke and Sarada travelled on foot the next day, their conversation gradually lulled. She had thoroughly regaled her poor father about everything, including the time Mama mixed the reds and whites and ended up sending the Rokudaime to Lightning Country in a pink robe. Sarada was thinking of how to fill the silence, when something occurred to her. 

Papa was gone during her developmental years. Which meant he wasn’t accustomed to her whining like Mama was. 

Sarada decided to rectify this situation immediately. “Pa-pa…” she let her voice lilt, “How much further…?” 

He let out a grunt and kept walking. Well, it was worth a shot. Thoroughly enjoying the sound of her own voice, Sarada started again.

“Pa-paaaaaaa…” 

Meanwhile, Sasuke studiously ignored the whines of his daughter. Sarada had assumed correctly that this type of behavior took him out of his comfort zone. Something about whining was entirely off-brand and undignified for all Uchiha past the age of five. Sadly, it seemed like his cute little daughter missed the memo, and was really that bored… and didn’t realize that she was messing with someone who used to run in leagues with Naruto. 

Well. Two could play this game. 

“Yes, my little peanut?” 

Sarada blinked, then jumped back, shocked. “Don’t call me that.” Her arms rose to protect herself, as if to parry the cringe. She thought they had settled this matter when she was a genin. This was entirely too mortifying.

Sasuke faced his daughter. His head tilted as if in confusion, not letting his amusement show on his face. “What’s wrong, my cute pistachio?” 

“Dad!” 

He faced up, letting the faintest trace of a smile grace his face. Yes, now that they had come to an understanding, they would get along just fine. He reached down to ruffle her hair. “Come, my adorable almond. We still have a while to go.”

◎ 

It turned out the End of the World as Sarada Knew It was just a bunch of rocks next to a sea of black. Sarada squinted her eyes as she looked forward at the treacherous water. 

Luckily, crossing it wouldn’t be a problem for her. Sarada sighed in relief when she saw the short line for tickets ahead. It wasn’t that she wanted to get away from her father, it was just that he was so dull sometimes. After the thoroughly embarrassing scene where Sarada learned the extent of her father’s familiarity with the edible seeds of fruits with hard shells, the two had come to an unspoken understanding in order to walk in silence. This was no loss to Sarada. In the past two days, she had told all her stories, including the one with how the new Thunder Burger made Boruto’s tongue swell. She wasn’t usually talkative, but being around Sasuke, who was so un-talkative, made her feel a need to overcompensate. 

Sarada took the opportunity to eavesdrop. Currently, they were in line to get tickets to cross the ocean. Ahead of her, the third guy stood with a sack on a stick, and was chatting with guy number two. “Thank the gods there’s passage today… what my wife would do if I was delayed another month for our honeymoon…” 

“What would she do?” Guy Number Two asked curiously. 

Guy Number Three sighed. “Well, she might not be my wife anymore…” 

Luckily the line moved quickly so she didn’t get to hear much more of his marital problems. Sitting behind a wooden kiosk was a balding man reading a newspaper. 

“Next,” he called out. His eyes didn’t leave the paper. 

Sarada walked up. “Passage for two, please.” 

“Hmm, okay… let me check your documentation…” The man lazily reached for their documents, and stamped it with barely a glance. “That’d be two hundred ryo, each…” 

Sasuke reached into his pocket and paid their fare, then pocketed their tickets. Sarada stepped carefully onto a huge green leaf to board their vessel, and then onto a soft, white pillow that gently curved above her Papa’s height.

No, she thought as she looked around. There were five soft white things with what looked like pillars in the middle of the formation. Only, surrounding them were not pillows. And those were not pillars. That was definitely a leaf though… for it seemed that Sarada and her Papa, along with some stragglers, had boarded onto a huge lotus flower. 

Sarada poked at the larger-than-life petal she was on, pushing against it skeptically. “Are you sure this will carry us across that?” She pointed outside. 

“Little girl, keep your voice down. Don’t you know whose ship this is?” It was the married man from earlier. Somehow he had made his way over.

“Am I supposed to?” Sarada asked curiously. Her Papa said nothing, seeming to be content with his daughter talking to strange men. 

“This ship is the only one that can carry us across those waters. Well,” he caught himself, “one of eight. But their hours are shoddy. We’re lucky that she’s here today.” 

Sarada looked around. There were three men playing with a deck of cards, and a mother and a child, but he couldn’t be referring to her, as she seemed to be barely managing to hold it together as it was.

“Benten kami-sama,” he clarified. “The goddess that guards this vessel. This is her lotus. There are only eight that are strong enough to cross these waters, and we’re lucky one of them decided to show up today. We travel at a speed of two-hundred and fifty knots, through calm water or stormy seas. To cut two weeks passage into two days,” he shook his head in wonder. “We are truly blessed.” 

Behind a petal, a willowy woman stepped out dressed in what resembled a kimono. “Please, I’m hardly a goddess,” she demurred. She glanced around, and stepped onto the edge of an enormous lotus leaf. Benten reached into the dark waters to pull out a huge cylindrical stem, which had the thickness of her hand, before she broke it with a clean snap. Immediately, they drifted away from the coastline towards the horizon. 

Satisfied, she turned back to face her passengers, and eyed Sarada curiously. “Who are you and why are you on my ship?” Then her eyes fell on Sasuke, head tilting with recognition. “And I wouldn’t have thought this one to sit so lightly.” 

Sarada introduced herself and her purpose, explaining why her Papa accompanied her. Afterwards, Sasuke got on his knees and bowed. The goddess studied him in silence.

“I was not expecting this,” Benten said, lilting her head. “The other one told us you had no manners. She said you were lost, and you were traveling. You may rise, shadowed one.” 

He slowly lifted his head. “I’ve found my nindo again. I only seek redemption. This time I am here for my daughter.” 

The conversation went above Sarada, but she felt uncomfortable seeing her proud father prostrating himself, even before a goddess. “Benten-sama, my Papa is a good man. He’s changed,” she said. She threw herself on her knees in earnest and bowed as well.

“My dear, if your Papa was a bad man, he would have sunk on my lotus leaf. Only the light of soul stay afloat. A bad passenger may mean disaster for everyone. The same way Amaterasu has blessed your Five Nations with ninja, I seek to protect the Twelve States by allowing only the worthy through. It is only that I am surprised to see him here,” she explained. “For goodness sakes, get up, child,” she snapped when she saw that Sarada’s head was still bowed. “I’m not that kind of goddess.” 

Then she turned to Sasuke again. “There are many ways one can be lost. I don’t mean your nindo, and Kaguya was right.” She looked him in the eyes. “Until you understand, you will never be at peace.” With those cryptic words, she greeted the other passengers as they drifted farther and farther from shore. 

Sarada was confused. “Papa, what does she mean?” 

Sasuke shook his head, refusing to answer. In silent apology, he enveloped her with his cloak and his good arm, holding her close beside him.

Sarada brought her knees up to her shoulders, and rested her head on his chest. Her heart squeezed tight and she closed her eyes. It hurt her to see this side of her father, who was renowned for being so sure and sturdy. Suddenly, growing up didn’t seem so great anymore.

◎ 

When they reached shore in two days, the first thing Sarada did was try to call her mother. “What’s a cellphone?” the guy at the immigration desk said. “And what’s a reception?” 

“I’ll send her a hawk,” Sasuke promised. He handed her some nut candies, poked her forehead and boarded a vessel back. 

When she boarded the ship, everyone had called the goddess Benten-sama. However, now in this strange land, people called her by a different name. 

As she traveled and asked for directions, she quickly discovered just how different the two lands were. It seemed that people here were familiar with family names and knew of the Haruno, though not much else beyond that. They also had more intimate relationships with numerous gods. Sarada passed by many shrines and twice as many vendors that sold talismans. 

And there was a god for everything. Sometimes, two or three gods even. Sarada could hardly keep their names straight. The villagers were friendly and superstitious, she found out, when a well-meaning vendor gave her a small charm and mixed messages that read “The God of Smallpox smiles upon you!” 

Sarada also discovered that her ryo was worthless, as nobody used the currency, despite it being standard across the Five Nations. In her travels, Sarada’s mouth watered at the exotic street food she passed that she both couldn’t buy and couldn’t bring herself to steal. Fortunately, when Sarada mentioned with her furious gesticulating with the only language she knew––“Benten-sama!” the vendors looked upon her kindly and gave her food, for it seemed like those blessed by Benten are good luck. Despite this, Sarada was still hungry, as the food had never seemed to be enough. Hopefully her extended family would feed her well. 

On the third day of her trip, hungry and exhausted, Sarada finally exited out of the last clearing. As she pushed aside a bamboo shoot to step onto the main road, she faced a huge red cement wall with a large red door, outlined in white, in the shape of a circle. Above that, were the characters for “Ha-ru-no.” 

Blessed Kami above, it seemed that she had finally arrived at her ancestral home.

◎ 

On Saturday, Sakura found Kakashi at the Konoha community garden. 

“Old age getting to you, Sensei?”

Kakashi looked up from the straw lip of his hat, staring dully at his former student who had bent down to tease him. He adjusted his squat to face her, gesticulating to a carrot he was harvesting. “What can I say? Age can make a man do funny things.”

“I never took you as one for farming.” 

“It’s an acquired taste,” he shot back as he went back to work. “After a lifetime of killing, it feels good to grow something for one’s own.” 

“I just wanted to tell you that Sasuke sent a hawk and said that Sarada arrived safely. Apparently she can’t call because there’s no signal there,” she sighed. “I’m an empty nester now. Is this how you felt after we left you?” 

He bit back a laugh. “Sakura-chan, I was your teacher, not your father. We didn’t have that type of relationship. But I was proud to see you grow. For that, your old sensei will take some credit for himself.” 

Sakura bent down to help Kakashi with the harvest. The two worked in companionable silence under the beating heat of the sun. 

After they finished, Sakura flopped onto her back and took a swig of water from Kakashi’s bottle, held out in silent offering. “Maybe I’ll help here after my clinic hours now that Sarada’s gone.” 

Kakashi’s eyes crinkled in approval. “These vegetables go directly into the hands of the most needy. Refugee families who can’t afford the usual market prices get weekly deliveries from the food bank. The orphanage gets the rest, and whatever is left goes to the homeless shelter.” 

Sakura considered this. “It’s likely my grandmother was one of those who benefitted.” 

“I doubt it. This was set up when I was Hokage. Danzou never would have allowed something like social welfare to take away from his Root recruitment process.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“The more people that benefit from a steady food source, the more likely they are to have the means to contribute to the village. Root always preyed on those who had no connections in a desperate situation. The stability something like this offers would take away from the very circumstances that allowed something like Root to thrive.” 

“I knew this setup was for a security measure of some sort. You’re too combatant otherwise.” 

“Call it what you’d like,” he said. “Instability breeds crime, and the underbelly of the village is what threatened the Third’s regime in the first place. I won’t deny why I did this. There is no such thing as a pure intention in the ninja world,” he criticized. “You should know this by now. Perhaps it wasn’t welfare for welfare’s sake. But this garden has helped a lot of people regardless of my reasons.” 

“I’m sorry, Kakashi. I didn’t mean it as a bad thing.” 

Kakashi closed his eyes. For some reason, he felt tired. He focused on the prickle of the grass beneath his hair and the wind blowing gently against his sweat. “It doesn’t matter what you think. This was designed to stabilize the village.” 

“And now?” she asked softly. 

“Now… it’s turned into something that I enjoy.”

Sakura closed her eyes and smiled to herself. “I’d like to enjoy it too.”

◎ 


End file.
